A Matter of Time
by PLUTOissoaplanet
Summary: Funny as it might have seemed to everyone else, Patty was noticing a recurring theme in her thought pattern. Not only was it a carousel, but it also seemed to reflect on the most important thing in the universe. Time.
1. Prologue

**Time**.

It truly was the most powerful thing on the planet.

To _her_ it was, it was her opinion, but maybe it was a universal feeling.

Some things could be forgotten in a matter of minutes, yet other things stuck in your memory for you're whole lifetime.

They say '_time heals all wounds_' but sometimes it just causes them to grow to unbearable sizes, until you feel like your heart is being ripped out, until you feel as if you're falling apart at the seams.

It had only been less than a year though. Less than 365 ¼ days. The earth had not made one revolution around the sun. It felt like forever though. Actually it felt as if absolutely no time had passed, none at all.

She could still picture him perfectly in her mind. Green speckled gray eyes holding such an intense amount of feeling it nearly knocked her of her feet…it nearly took the air from her lungs…it…For once in her life she didn't have some other phrase or word.

Her mind was like a storm at sea. Her thoughts crashed and mingled just as the gray blue waves of the water.

Gray Blue.

His eyes had looked gray-blue that day. That day when she brought him the shirt she had bought for her father. The shirt had made his eyes seem like the brightest blue, but they gray was still there. The gray was always there. Like some type of sorrow that stayed with him no matter where, no matter what.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all he had been through in his life. She didn't want to believe he had _volunteered_ to be in the army. She knew he didn't volunteer. Everything he had told her went against that. **Strongly** went against. From the conversations they had shared she knew he was a pacifist. She knew he was interested in peace.

Yet, she didn't know. He never really liked to talk about the war, so she never really pressed the matter. Talk of his family always made him happier, and so she stuck with asking questions about them. And from those questions she felt as if she knew each and everyone of them. Not that he had a large family, but it was a bit to keep track of.

Erikson Karl. Deborah Aisling. Hannah Lorelei.

And then they all shared the same last name: _Reiker_.

Except, Mrs. Reiker- _Deborah's_ maiden last name was 'Fletcher', which he had described as 'quite a common last name in England'.

Actually. She did know. From the last long conversation she had with him. The one Ruth had been part of. _"I believe that love is better than hate. And that there's more nobility in building a chicken coop then destroying a cathedral_[1]_"_ he had said. And there had been other things he had said that proved it as well, but she didn't really remember **everything** he had said. She tried to but no one could remember all _that_. He had opened her mind to so much more. He had taught her that there were different places in the world, different types of people. He taught her that it was okay to ask questions, even if you think they're stupid ones.

He proved to her that there are people in thus world that actually do love her, that actually _care_ about what happens to her. And in her mind that's the most valuable thing in the world.

Of course, the ring is quite valuable too. But in a different sense. The ring is a material possession, while his words and lessons are permanently engraved into her mind.

Sometimes she wishes it wasn't. Sometimes she curls her fingers over the ring, feeling the cool metal against her skin. It reminds her of that fateful night when he left. Sometimes thoughts about him stay uninterrupted in her mind for hours; sometimes she wishes things were different, and that they were _together_ in **Germany**.

Every since she first meet him she has seen Germany as the place she is meant to be. She can't even imagine that it's as he said it was, in that one deeply saddening conversation. He said that towns had been destroyed, cities and villages as well. That the plants didn't survive, that the plants couldn't survive, especially after so many walking over them. That the people were hollow shells that they chose not to burden themselves with to many _emotions_. There wasn't large amounts of food anywhere, and it didn't bother anyone. Eating wasn't something they thought about.

No. Those people had more important things to think about. They chose to think about their loved ones, many who had been taken away for protesting the war or had died fighting in it. Some had even been lucky enough to escape over the borders.

That wasn't how she envisioned it. She envisioned it as before that. A large, elegant house not far from the University. Cities, towns, and villages overflowing with grace and kindness. People ready to welcome her into their lives.

It was all just a **daydream** of hers. She had this one _constantly_. She thought about him constantly. And more than once she found herself wishing she didn't. She just couldn't take it. All the unanswered questions, all the worrisome thoughts that plagued her mind. She could remember his lessons and their conversations, she could remember him, but nothing— absolutely nothing answered these questions. Made them go away.

And, oh! How she wished they were gone. It was bad enough he was gone, but did she really have to bother herself with all these answerless questions?

She did. She was going to keep doing it, no matter how the questions bothered her. No matter how much the potential answers bothered her.

The most frequent happened to be;;

Was he doing okay? Was he happy? Had he forgotten about her?

And the most dreaded, most constant one that made her shake in fear. The one that sent shivers down her spine and made her want to…made her want to _disappear_;;

Was he…Was he **dead**?

**DISCLAIMER;;** I own none of the characters currently written about. My first name is not Bette and my last name is not Greene.

**edited june 5****th**** 2010**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

[1]- pg. 134, Summer of My German Soldier

Hmm, probably seems a little out of character…or a lot.

Well, I've been wanting to do one of these for a while, but I've just been so absolutely busy with school and other stories held priority over this but, in just two hours of writing I've finally have a prologue.

However, I know not whether I should have dear Mr. Frederick Anton Reiker dead. I have a few ideas in my head to how he might still be alive, but there all very…ehh.

Anyway, I chose second names for Deborah and Hannah, Deborah's being pronounced 'ASH-ling' and Hannah's being pronounced 'LORE-uh-lie'. 'Aisling' is of Gaelic origin, while 'Lorelei' is of German. I also came up with Deborah's maiden name, choosing 'Fletcher' because it is quite common in England [or so I believe].

I hope to have the first chapter up soon [by Monday],

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	2. Chapter 1

_Dear Anton,  
It is an uneventful time for me.  
My parents force themselves to spend time with me but you can tell they don't want to, that they're annoyed by me.  
They think that the fact our family spends so little time together is what caused me to hide you.  
It isn't though._

Patty could feel the sorrow rushing through her veins, she could feel how it welled up inside of her raining down from her eyes in tiny droplets. Sometimes thinking about him made it worse, sometimes it made it better. But today wasn't one of the later days. She sniffled, wishing once again that she had gone away with him. However, what she wanted most of all, what she wished for with all her heart was to know if they had caught him.

She could still remember that day, nearly a month after she had seen Anton off. They came straight to the house, and didn't even bother to open the door. They just barged right in, sending her father into a furious rampage. They didn't pay any attention to him and after a moment he noticed that and quit his consistent chain of loud, colorful words. They stood right there in the doorway, eyes narrowed and shoulders stiff, searching for her. And there she had been, building a puzzle with Sharon. It was of an elephant in a jungle, she believes, and of a simple piece number. Fifteen or twenty. Nothing all that sophisticated.

The sat right down in front of her blocking Sharon, at first the questioned her without giving away anything, but she didn't respond to that. Then they took out what was meant to hurt, what was meant to make her give in and give them the answers they were looking for.

"_The NY State Troopers have spotted and are in pursuit of Reiker. Lethal Force is applicable to use. FBI Agents have been sent in as backup," McFee read the data of a sheet of white paper. _

She had told them straight away, pleading with them not to hurt him. To just leave him alone, let him go. She stressed the point of how kind he was and absolutely uncommitted he was to the German Army. She tried to get them to tell her anything else they knew, but they wouldn't. They went away that night, and then the court notice came, and she was trialed. Her sentence was a light one, considering she was under the act of treason. Half a year in reformatory school. Nothing all that difficult for her. Actually it was quite nice to be away from her father and his deadly glares, her mother's constant little comments about how embarrassed she was to be her mother, and Sharon gazing at her wide-eyed, knowing this wasn't their parents' usual behavior towards her.

However, it didn't last forever. Six months went by faster than decent of a rock thrown out a two-story window. She had to come home, where her parents forced her to go to a therapist [**that hadn't helped her had it? Here she was, writing a letter that would never be sent, to someone that could be dead for all she knew**], where the townspeople were apprehensive, and even afraid to talk to her. As if she were about to hurt them, or 'being a traitor' was contagious.

Remembering was the worst though.

It had been for the past year.

McFee and Pierce hadn't sent a letter, or gave a phone call. They didn't stop by either. They wouldn't give her anymore information. Perhaps they thought of it as a bad idea; would she break him out of prison, would she turn into a serial killer because he had died? Or did they never catch him and were too ashamed to admit?

She thought of all the possibilities. She'd even thought of them more than ten times each. It was as if her mind was a racing track, and all you could do was run circles until something or someone told you to stop, gave you the necessary information that **made** you stop.

And somehow, her thoughts always came back to him, and if he was okay.

In her fantasies, in her ever wild imagination, he was back in Germany. In Medical School, going to Gottingen University where his father still worked. His family had survived the war and so had Gottingen and all the elegant architecture it contained. Perhaps, he was leading a key role in rebuilding the country. He thought of her every day, and he told every he knew about her and what she did. He planned on seeing her again some day, no matter what. He planned on asking her to marry him, and had the ring already picked out.

She knew this was a fantasy though.

The war had yet to end.

And it seemed as if it never would.

She sniffled once more, wiping underneath her eyes with her sleeve. Her outfit was one that she hadn't chosen. One that she didn't like wearing. A pink blouse covered her torso, with ruffles and a lace border, buttons that were dyed and flashy. On her legs was a khaki colored skirt, stiff and uncomfortable, which it wouldn't be if it was made completely of cotton. Her feet were in platform sandals, which wrapped around and buckled at the ankle. Her hair had not been 'permanently waved' in seven months. It was just past her shoulders, and flowed in a natural wave, the auburn coloring in all its glory was just as she liked it. Neither flashy nor dull. Right in the middle of the scale.

She would have complained, but she didn't dare complain to her parents anymore. The only way either could be swayed was if it was a fellow adult who brought up a matter. Like her Grandmother, who had said she preferred Patty's hair when it wasn't 'curled like a poodle's'.

Patty smiled at the thought of her grandmother, and then her mind strayed to both her grandparents. _The apple fell quite far from the tree_. Pearl Bergen 'nee Fried was nothing like her parents, although Patty had no idea what her parents had been like when she was growing up. She was quite sure they were the same, not positive, but quite **sure**.

Love and Kindness brought her mind to Ruth who had been fired for sticking up for Patty. Remorse washed over her as she thought of the jubilee and care that radiated off of Ruth. The African American house keeper worked for another family now, one of her 'kind' as her parents rudely put it to Mrs. Benns.

She sighed, feeling the sadness creeping up on her once more. It was all her fault Ruth had been fired, and now Sharon wouldn't grow up with the full care she needed, she wouldn't be raised by someone with benevolence and a bucket overflowing with morals. Sharon would be gypped a chance of a lifetime.

And speaking of Sharon, where was she?

And then, as if the Lord was answering her question, she heard footsteps and her sister's high-pitched voice, _"Patty! Patty! Guess what?"_.

**DISCLAIMER;; **My first name is Tabitha, not Bette and my last name begins with the letter before G.

**edited june 5****th**** 2010**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

Hmm.

Should he be dead, or alive?

And, as it was said in the book, Patty does not like the color pink and prefers not to look flashy. She also hates sashes and lace, right? I think the book had something about the 'hate of sashes and lace' in it, while it was talking about the 'blue middy dress'.

I know, I said this was going to be done on Monday but, I ended up going to a parade, riding with my aunt in her convertible [she bought it because it was the same color as her eyes o_O] to Babies'r'Us, going to my Nana's, going swimming, and then going to a Restaurant for dinner…not to mention wondering where all the haze was coming from [turns out it was from a wildfire in Canada, I'm just wondering how something like that gets all the way to RI]. It was also Memorial Day here in the states so, yeah.

And thank-you for reminding me that it is Erikson Karl, and not Karl Erikson, Miss Yva {I looked in the book and Miss Greene spelt it with a K, pg. 90 paragraph 2 1st sentence, _'Anton described his father, University of Gottingen history professor Erikson Karl Reiker, as being "a truly civilized man" for whom the war started back in the early thirties._}

Reviews get me going, and inspire me to write faster,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	3. Chapter 2

"Patty! Patty! Guess what?" the typical high-pitched voice came, her sister's figure soon appearing in the doorway of their shared room.

Patty quickly dabbed and wiped at my eyes some more, desperately trying to remove any trace of my sorrow before I lifted up my face to smile at her, "Wh-What is it?" Her voice cracked, and her smile wasn't exactly perky.

Sharon, in all her glorious innocence, looked at Patty for a minute before sticking out her bottom lip in thought and sudden disappointment at her sister's obvious sadness. She could always tell, any child always could tell when something was wrong. Of course, it helped her quite a bit that her sister just emanated it, from her red eyes to the sorrow that seeped into her high alto voice. "What's wrong?" she questioned her voice soft and her lips falling into a full pout. If her sister wasn't happy, she wasn't going to be happy either.

"Oh, nothing, I was just remembering this really sad story I read," Patty quickly told the seven-year-old. She didn't think Sharon held anything against her, like some other people. It was the fact that Sharon told their parents everything that made Patty steers away from the truth. In the past eight or so months Patty hadn't fibbed at all, not to others and not to herself.

_Anton shook his head. "I try never to lie to myself, and I dislike lying to friends."_[1]

She had been trying to follow those words of his for a long time, and for 'eight or so months' in a row she had succeeded. And now, now she had broken that. She would have sighed at this moment in time but the close proximity of Sharon's ears kept her from voicing it.

Sharon immediately perked up, completely believing the elder one's answer. "Well, come on! Come down stairs! You have to hear this!" the child was practically jumping up and down in her excitement.

Patty smirked at her sister, steadily getting up from the oak chair and walking in her sister's direction. She followed the bouncing child, trying to keep up with the brisk pace set.

"**Today, May 7****th****, 1945, German Forces surrendered to the United States-"**

That was all Patty heard before her mind went elsewhere.

The war in Europe.

It was over.

It was over…

Patty had imagined this several times, and each time it ended a different way. One time it ended with…Oh, who cared? Quite honestly, she had thought of all the different endings so many times she never wanted to think about them again.

She glanced around the room she had barely entered, her mother looked ecstatic, and her father had that rare smile upon his face. They looked nearly as happy as they had a week ago when they had heard on the same radio [_same station as well_] that Hitler had committed suicide.

Patty, and basically everyone, had thought that meant Germany had surrendered, that the war in Europe was over and there was only Japan left. The war in Europe hadn't been over though, and it had everyone discouraged. Especially Patty. Everything she needed, every place she wanted to be, everyone she wanted to meet was in Europe. Or, more specifically, Germany.

And now, it was over. At least in the United States' perspective, and its allies'. Most notably the United Kingdom, Canada, and France. Russia, it seemed, had yet to get Germany to surrender.

It was still over, though, and that made Patty happier than anything.

Except perhaps…No, no. She was not to think of all that at this moment.

She couldn't keep her mind from straying, though. Hadn't she been thinking of the war coming to an end just twenty minutes earlier? Or was it even less than that? Fifteen? Ten? Five? She lost count, as she often did when she thought about…

Funny as it might have seemed to everyone else, Patty was noticing a recurring theme in her thought pattern. Not only was it a carousel, but it also seemed to reflect on the most important thing in the universe. Time.

Not only did time have to do with your memory, it also had to do with the future, the past, and the present.

How long would it be until Patty could journey to Europe? To Germany? To Gottingen?

How long would it be until she saw Anton again? If, she ever saw him again.

She felt the tears coming back as she thought of him, her eyes filled with the evacuating droplets as the subject of him stuck in her mind. She was frozen there, right in that spot. She didn't move, she didn't even take a step backwards as her father practically stomped in her direction. The sorrow of the thought of his death stuck with her always, and although she didn't think of it all the time, it was subconsciously there. All day, every day. The sadness mounted, releasing itself from her hold once or twice a day. It was more sometimes. Sometimes it was five, and once it had even been all day. Continuously popping into her mind at the strangest moments, and the worst part of that day was the fact that it was a school day and she had been weeping uncontrollably all throughout class.

Her father's angry voice broke through her thoughts, louder than thunder, and more ferocious than the growl of a peeved lion, "You **better** be crying for the _American_ _and allied_ lives lost during that war."

It seemed as if her mom was about to protest his harsh words, but instead of contradicting him she just hung her head, keeping her rebuke unspoken.

As he grew more and more impatient, the tension in the room seemed to thicken faster than humidity in a rain forest. She blinked tears from her eyes, lowering her gaze from her father to her sandals. She just couldn't keep herself strong when his gaze was filled with so much rage and hate, and directed entirely at her. "I-i-i….was just," she needed something, and _fast_, "crying for the destruction done to England." There. That was a logical answer, but just in case she continued on quickly, stammering and sputtering, "I h-have a l-love for a-architecture."

Her father narrowed his eyes at her, but he took a few steps back heading towards his chair. He obviously didn't believe her, and although he hadn't continued with his inquisition she was nervous beyond compare.

She rushed towards the door, "I'm going to see how the rest of the town's taking the news." She needed to get out of that room and it's tension, and she needed to now. She all but ran out the door, not waiting to see if either of her parents approved.

The streets were empty, yet Patty knew others were about. Mostly in their houses, but they were still there. Jenkinsville had yet to become a ghost town. And from the loud singing and excited yelling, the people of the non-ghost town were happy.

She wasn't out here because of them though. Why would she be? All them 'folks did was avoid her as if she were the plague.

She had one mission at this moment in time.

She needed Ruth and her jubilee and her wisdom. And, Oh, her kindness. Her wonderful kindness.

**DISCLAIMER;; **I own not any of these characters or the original book. However, I do own a Social Studies Notebook with notes on Immigration, the Middle East, the Lost Boys, and RI. Remember TF not BG.

**edited on june 5****th**** 2010**

**Author's Note;;**

[1]- pg. 136, _Summer of My German Soldier_

Oh. Crap.

I need to definitely edit this story and boost the time after Anton's departure to over one year and six months. Seeing that he took off in Summer- Oh no, wait. Under a year. I believe the story takes place in 1944 {though that doesn't correspond with Anton's age of twenty-two if he was thirteen in 1933, but whatever. I'm too confused to care right now} and this being May of the next year….

Yeah. I'm confusing. But that doesn't change the fact that I need to edit.

At first I wanted Sharon's news to be that their Grandparents were coming for a visit, or she had seen Ruth…but then this popped into my mind and it seemed so much more eventful and purposeful to the story.

Sharon has black hair, right? 'Cos in the book it says '_Everybody says that with her black hair and dark eyes she looks just like Mother, while I look like-_' [pg. 60-61], but the small community her at FF say it's blonde.

Fifteen more days until Summer Vacation. School days that is. We get out on June 23rd.

Any who,

Please review, lovelies.

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	4. Chapter 3

She sat there at the old pinewood table, a cup of hot chocolate in front of her. She was nervous, antsy. She was beginning to question why she came here in the first place. She unknowingly stirred her beverage with a spoon, avoiding a conversation.

"Patty babe, what's wrong?" Ruth asked her, gently laying a hand across her rapidly moving one. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and her eyes held a certain compassion that almost everyone else's seemed to lack.

Her eyes seemed to fill constantly today with those telltale drops and in seconds she was on Ruth's lap, crying her eyes out. "It's just so hard, Ruth," she informed, her voice muffled by her sobs.

"Now, Patty, I knows you just didn't expect it to be easy," Ruth reminded her, gently patting her on the back and stroking her head, trying to calm her down.

That didn't stop her though. She needed to let it out, to let it _all_ out. Even though it'd just build back up again. "_Why'd he have to go_?" left her mouth, as the uneven sobs still came. The words sounded broken, and there was a genuine confusion in her voice. There was also hesitance, the words slurred and coming at strange intervals. Yet, one thing stood out the most. The utter defeat that her words drowned in.

Ruth gave the sobbing girl a sharp look and slid her off her lap in a quick motion, and before the adolescent could react she was sitting against Ruth's chair. Ruth's hands were gently, yet somehow firmly, on her shoulders keeping her there. "Now you listen here, you knows he had to go, you knows it was better that way, and somewhere deep down you knows he'll always be with you," Ruth lectured her, her words firm and strict, yet her eyes showing the care they always did. No matter what Ruth did she always _cared_. And that was something that had always drawn Patty in, even though she'd been told to not become _friends_ or even _acquaintances_ with 'those people'.

Patty gave Ruth a watery smile, trying to show her just how much she meant to her. She always felt better after talking to Ruth, she always felt better after just _seeing_ Ruth. 'Cos Ruth was one of those magical people, who made anyone with an attention span big enough to listen to all she had to say and a mind broad enough to comprehend the words she used and what they meant feel better about themselves…about their problems…about _anything_.

Patty had that true, happy/sad smile on her face. Until she thought of someone else, someone who could do the same thing. And that made her think of all the things that had gone on in the past week. The past day. The past _hour_.

If you had told her two years ago that her life would be this complicated, _this busy_, she would have laughed in your face and said that _her_ life could never be busy or complicated. Her schedule had been so monotonous back then. So, very, _very_ monotonous.

"Ruth," she began shakily, swallowing her hesitance and letting the words burst out from her mouth, "Did you hear the news?" She could have saved herself the trouble of thinking it all over again, of thinking how muddled her life was. If her Grandmother knew about this she would have supplied a different word then muddled, she would have said, "Well, dear, your life is _mishmosh_."

Ruth shook her head, a concerned look taking over her expression. She let her hands fall from Patty's shoulders to her own sides. "No, honey babe, I didn't. What is the **news**?" she asked the auburn-haired girl, moving one of her hands to brush the girl's hair out of her eyes.

Patty took a deep breath, knowing that she'd be all right. _Eventually_. Ruth and her magic would work its way, and she'd be cured. _Partially_. Patty licked her lips, stalling. She sighed knowing she shouldn't keep Ruth wanting. It wouldn't be nice, especially after all Ruth had done for her. She prepared herself, taking another deep breath, "The war in Europe is over."

Ruth pulled another chair over to where Patty was sitting and sat down herself. She didn't speak, her eyes showing that she was deep in thought. That she was trying to choose her words carefully. "'Ya knows that there's no way you could get yourself to Germany, right?" Ruth asked her, her words coming out slowly, filled with an emotion Patty couldn't identify.

Patty looked at Ruth in surprise. "That wasn't what I was thinking," she informed Ruth, stuffing away the idea in the recesses of her mind. She knew that would be impossible, though. Absolutely impossible. But maybe…Nope. It was impossible. Completely.

Ruth let out a breath Patty didn't know she was holding. Over all, the elder lady looked relieved, nearly happy that Patty had said she wasn't thinking of running off to Germany. She wasn't completely satisfied, though. "So what'cha planning on doing, then?" Ruth questioned, trying to figure out the answer for herself. She gazed at Patty, looking her in the eyes.

"I…," Patty began, realizing something very important, "I have no idea!" She wasn't happy. She was frustrated, in despair, trying to figure out what she was to do. She frowned, her hazel eyes widening just the slightest bit. She was at a loss of what to do. And she really needed to know what she was to do.

Ruth stood up once again, pulling Patty into a warm and loving embrace, just as she had before. So _many times_ before. She patted Patty on the back, once again finding words to sooth the others troubles. "Shhh…Calm down," Ruth told her gently, grief falling into her voice. Seeing the girl like this always took a toll on the old house-keepers heartstrings. She could never stop herself for feeling sad as the girl told her all of her problems, all the things that plagued her mind. Ruth continued speaking, trying to control her voice and keep it consoling, "You knows you gonna be just fine, honey."

Patty felt her frustration disappear at once, her despair slowing following suit. "I just want him back, Ruth," Patty whispered, barely loud enough for anyone else's ears to hear. Her face glistened with a few lone teardrops and she remembered something else.

"_Just wanted to point out that the biggest difference between us is that you cry more nosily than I_."[1]

She was brought back to reality by Ruth's voice, and her words, "Patty babe, we all want someone to come back." The words hit Patty like a train. Her she was, being so selfish. And there was Ruth, giving her undivided attention when she was fighting sad thoughts of her own.

"Ruth," Patty began tentatively, "Robert will be back soon now that the war's over." She moved her head back a little giving Ruth another smile. A _real_ smile. Somehow Ruth always managed to get her to smile, whether it was a happy one or a sad one.

Ruth gave Patty a smile of her own, and reminded Patty of something she had momentarily forgot, "You should head on home. Your father won't be to happy if your out late.".

Patty smiled a little harder, it was just like Ruth to watch out for her. She pulled forward, tightening the embrace for a little while before letting go and saying the over-used, "Bye Ruth."

"Bye Patty," Ruth said, leading her to the front door, and watching her walk down the street.

Patty smiled to herself, realizing something else. They didn't avoid her like the plague.

They avoided her like mad cow disease.

Their actions unjustified.

She chuckled a bit under her breath, the sound strange to her ears. She hadn't laughed in a long time. But maybe, just maybe, she was laughing right now because she knew what she had to do.

She had to find out what happened to Anton.

**DISCLAIMER**;; Once again, I own a social studies notebook, not '_Summer of My German Soldier_' which belongs to Bette Greene. I also own an English notebook, If anyone is looking for information on '_Three Cups of Tea_'.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

[1]- pg. 153, _Summer of My German Soldier_

Sorry it took me so long, I've been going swimming quite a bit. Also, I'm pretty darn sure it took place in 1944. I did the math {and I'm actually getting a 100 in math} and if she graduated in the class of 1950 than it took place in 1944.

Oh well, this math is hurting my brain and I have about one hour worth of math homework to do. ): Though, on a much better note, I was listening to the Downtown Fiction and I came across two songs that remind me of _Summer of my German Soldier_.

The main lyrics that reminded me in the first song [**Living Proof**] are;;

_I'm living proof, broken and defeated  
I'm the shattered youth and no one could believe it  
If I can't have you, well darlin' I just can't go on_

And then, the main lyrics that reminded me of the book from the second song [**Anybody out there?**] are;;

_Stand in line like military time  
Flowers blooming up from dirt  
Wear the ties and complicated lines  
There's wrinkles on a fresh-pressed shirt  
He stands alone, conforming on his own  
He's thinking but he does not speak  
He tries to fight the edges on his mind  
But she is what he truly seeks,  
But she is what he truly seeks _

I really suggest listening to those songs.

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	5. Chapter 4

Much to her relief, her father did not occupy time by yelling at her for being gone so long. Didn't yell at her for not getting his complete permission before leaving. No, he did not have the time for that. He was too busy trying to get here to agree to be 'presentable' and 'behave' at her grandparents. As if, she didn't already.

She just nodded her head obediently, afraid to say anything. He still had such a short fuse, and while he didn't hit her that much anymore his voice scared her just as much. How could his voice not? It was sharp, and dangerous like a sword wielded by a madman. A murderer, not a martyr.

She quickly brought her attention back to her ranting father, who was now going over 'the proper ways to talk about the end of the war in Europe'. He paused in his rant, barking out a swift, "Do you understand?"

She nodded her head vigorously, trying to persuade him that there was no need to keep up with his lecture. Quite frankly, she had heard more than enough. She did not need him to repeat himself; she had gotten the message as soon as he had started speaking.

He narrowed his hazel eyes, so much like her own and then she was struck with how similar she and he looked, yet how absolutely different they were. She was like a rabbit; nervous and quick, and he was like a fox; devious and cold. "You better," he muttered under his breath before leaving her standing there.

She felt herself relax, her posture returning to a casual position instead of the military one she used when her father talked to her. She listened to her parents discuss this trip to her grandparents, hardly hearing the "Let's go." her mother said.

At once, she followed their suit and walked out the door, Sharon chirping excitedly behind her, reminding her of robins.

They- the seemingly normal family- gathered themselves in the car, parents in the front, and children in the back. As was her 'job' on these long rides, Patty began telling her sister a story. This one being 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves'.

Sharon, as always, fell asleep soon after the story, leaving Patty to her own thoughts. She knew something about all the common fairytales. They had been written down in Germany, though sometimes they did not have the happiest endings. And right now, her story didn't either.

She mulled over the whole subject for as long as it took to get to Memphis, which was actually pretty long. Over an hour. Or something in that nature. Forty-five minutes? Forty? Did it really even matter?

Probably not.

Patty smiled, gently shaking her younger sister as her grandparent's house came into view. The dark-haired girl woke almost instantly, rubbing at her eyes, trying to dispel her sleep so that she could be an active part of some type of conversation.

Her father left the car first, followed by her mother, Sharon, and finally herself. She didn't really want to go in there, after all her aunts, uncles, and cousins would be in there. It was always awkward around them, especially since they would throw a suspicious glance in her direction every now and then. Then again, she loved seeing her grandparents who were almost the only members of her family that loved her for who she was. They did not try to change her. Unlike some other people.

She placed a smile on her face, nothing to big yet something that was not exactly non-existent, something subtle. She brought her hand to her face and brushed locks of auburn hair behind her ear. She glanced down, deciding that she looked 'presentable' as her mother had so often put it.

She wandered into the twelve-roomed house, trailing behind her immediate family. She hung back as her aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and sister greeted each other. She received a view polite 'hello's, a hug from her grandfather, and a hug _and_ a kiss on the cheek from her grandmother.

She was standing awkwardly near the front door, unsure of how to include herself in one of the several conversations going on around her. She didn't know how to, and more importantly she knew she wasn't welcome in their conversations. She was just someone they had to put up with. Someone lurking in the background of their 'perfect' family. Just thinking about how she did not belong chipped at her heart, sending her into thoughts of disappointment in herself.

"Why don't you come help me in the kitchen, dear?" her Grandmother asked, one of those grandmotherly smiles on her face. It was strange but Patty had never thought of her Grandmother as anything but kind and joyful, no matter how bad a situation was her Grandmother always emanated those. Her Grandfather was the same, and for once, something in her life was stable…and how it should be. How it was always said to be.

Patty nodded quickly, thankful that she was soon to be out of the rather ostracizing room, filled with rather rude people. Ignorance is rude, is it not? Patty followed in her elder's footsteps, a smile forming over her previously blank expression.

"Thank-you for inviting me to help," she murmured to her Grandmother as soon as they were safely behind the kitchen door. Spending time with her grandparents was the only good thing about these trips. The only reason she wanted to come.

Her Grandmother gave her one of those understanding I'm-not-going-to-bring-that-up smiles, responding with "You're always the best helper a person could have."

Patty could have laughed at that statement but that would be impolite, and she didn't want to be rude to her grandmother. Why did her parents never say that? Was it because her Grandmother was too nice to tell her otherwise, or just because they could not realize it themselves for they were much to preoccupied with keeping up an image that she didn't fit into?

She did not allow herself to dwell on the matter, there was more important things to do right now, and the most important one was to find out what her grandmother needed help with. "Grandma, what is it you need help with?" she questioned, looking straight into her grandmother's eyes. She had never noticed before but they were around the same height, which said a lot for Patty. Barely thirteen and standing 5'4".

"Why my dear child, I need someone to keep me company while I watch over this turkey," her Grandmother explained, a small chuckle escaping from her mouth in that familiar good-natured way.

Patty felt her own grin grow wider. She loved spending time with her grandmother. It was always a nice change to everyday routine. After all, everyone needs a little warmth in their life before they freeze to death.

"So..," her Grandmother began, obviously not knowing how to word her thoughts, "What are your views on the end of the war?"

Patty fought the surprise at her Grandmother asking such a question, but she had done it in such a nice way Patty felt obligated to reply, "I'm happy it's over but I know the damage done will take years to repair." Then, before she could stop herself, she added, "Especially in Germany."

"I've heard it was quite destroyed over there," her Grandmother's response came as a whisper, as if she was having trouble with her thoughts.

Patty leaned up against a granite counter, unsure of what to say or do. Her grin disappearing almost instantly. Had she caused even more trouble? There really should be a limit on how much trouble you can cause in a lifetime.

"Well, I'm sure if everyone works together they'll fix it all up," came a slightly loud statement from her grandmother.

Patty felt the relief come over her in waves, peaceful ones, ones like in the Pacific. The words her grandmother had spoken brought back a memory. It had been in a conversation with her grandparents and Charlene Madlee, and one of the three had been saying that some found brotherhood and unity in her 'story', how they might feel closer to each other after hearing it.

Patty felt the smile make a comeback, growing larger then before when her grandmother wandered over and gave her a hug. She returned the embrace, practically basking in the warmth that radiated off her grandmother like heat [or light…] from the sun.

She took a deep breath, clearing her mind and just letting the content feeling spread throughout her. This moment was one of the ones that you knew you would always remember forever and ever. It was like the moments she had spent with…

There she went again. Could she not escape the thoughts of him and all he had done and said? His lessons? His manner of speaking? His kindness? His logic? His stories?

Once again, her mind was a carousel, swirling in the same direction time and time again. She did not hear any words her grandmother might have said, though anything her grandmother would have said would have sent her right out of the daze she was in. Of course she would have, she practically trained herself to respond to everything her grandmother said. Not consciously of course, it was one of those things, to put it as Ruth had, 'Your heart did instead of your mind'.

Instead she was woken by the sound of a knock, footsteps, and the kitchen door opening in a flash of off-white. There stood her grandfather, and a pale blonde woman in a bright business-like sky blue dress.

Her grandmother backed out of the embrace, sheepishly speaking to Patty, "Did I forget to tell you we invited Charlene over?"

Yes, yes she had. But to Patty it didn't matter. Her grandparents approved of Charlene and her friendship with Patty even though Charlene was-_is_-a reporter. Charlene approved of Patty even though she had committed treason. And Patty considered herself the luckiest girl alive to have come out of something as bad as court with a friend. That, and only that, mattered.

In another quote from Ruth, 'Sometimes the simplest things are the things that matter the most'.

"Hello Charlene," Patty greeted her old friend, wondering for the billionth time how someone like Charlene had become friends with a _plowgirl_ like her. It didn't matter though, now did it? No. It did not. Hadn't she just gotten through telling herself that? Why tell yourself something if you don't remember it ten seconds later?

The hazel-eyed girl turned her attention to the visitor, knowing instantly that a guest deserved your full attention. She waited for Charlene to say something, and, boy, she didn't have to wait long.

"Hello Patty," the reporter replied, sending a dazzling smile in Patty's direction. The two rows of white teeth instantaneously reminded Patty of…Nope. Full and undivided attention.

Her grandmother spoke up before she could, "Why don't you two take a walk around the neighborhood?"

"I think that's a splendid idea," her grandfather supplied before either of the two had a chance to give some sort of insight on the idea.

The two of them shared a look, and a smile. This was Mr. and Mrs. Fried's way of giving them some privacy to talk, though; they probably did not need any privacy at all. Or maybe they did, Patty thought after taking it into consideration for the shortest of moments.

"It is quite a wonderful idea," Patty put in, thinking once more, of how different her grandparents were from her parents.

After a quick 'good-bye' to her grandparents from both of them, a "Shall we?" from Charlene, and an even briefer explanation of where she was going to her parents who didn't take time from their conversations to pay her any attention were out the door.

Patty didn't dwell on her parents uncaring attitude towards her. She did not care.

All she cared about was talking to Charlene, who was bound to discuss what she _really_ wanted to talk about.

**DISCLAIMER;;** Once again, I do not own these characters. Though, I now own a folder with a hand-drawn cover featuring violets, the RI State flag, the Rhode Island Red, and a red maple leaf.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

Well, this is the longest chapter by far, and for once in my hobby of writing, I know exactly where I am taking this story, though the details will come along the way.

I would like to thank Frau Yva and Fraulien Moonlite […Hmm, what would your prefer to be called?] for their continuous support and encouragement, which helps me write quite faster.

I had relatively large playlist for this chapter, including;;

'_Where Dreams Go to Die_', '_Oceans Between Us_', '_Best I Never Had_', '_I Just Wanna Run_', '_Take Me Home_', '_Your Voice_', and '_You Were Wrong_' by the Downtown Fiction.

'_Empty With You_', '_All That I've Got_', '_Smoother Me_', '_Pretty Handsome Awkward_', and '_the Bird and the Worm_' by the Used.

'_Bleed Like Me_', '_Stupid Girl_', '_Cherry Lips_', '_I Think I'm Paranoid_', '_# 1 Crush_', and '_Tell Me Where It Hurts_' by Garbage.

'_Down Goes Another One_', '_Falling in Love_', '_Ultraviolet_', and '_Too Close For Comfort_' by McFly.

'_That Thing You Do_', '_Air Hostess_', and '_3AM_' by Busted.

'_Underneath It All_', '_Simple Kind of Like_', '_Don't Speak_', '_Just a Girl_', and '_Ex-Girlfriend_' by No Doubt.

'_While My Guitar Gently Weeps_', '_Help!_', '_A Hard Day's Night_', and '_Here Comes the Sun_' by the Beatles.

Covers of '_Dear Prudence_', '_Hey Jude_', '_I Want to Hold Your Hand_', '_Across the Universe_', '_Happiness is a Warm Gun_', and '_Strawberry Fields Forever_' originally by the Beatles but sung by Jim Sturgess, Joe Anderson, Evan Rachel Wood, and T.V. Carpio.

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	6. Chapter 5

For the first few blocks, Charlene and Patty said nothing to each other, leaving Patty alone with her thoughts. Patty was not sure she knew what to say, and that made her thankful for the silence. However, the silence was a calm one, neither awkward nor filled with tension as ones with others tended to be.

Patty let he thoughts drift in and out of her mind, smiling as she thought about how serene everything was right now. She barely ever got a moment like this, and well, when life gives you lemons make lemonade. She let her gaze wander over the Victorian modeled houses painted in pastel blues, greens, pinks, yellows, and reds. And then there was the white houses, she couldn't forget about them because they didn't pop out to the eye like the others. Patty glanced over at the house they were currently passing; it was painted a beautiful angel blue, had windows that arched upwards in a gothic fashion, a darker blue door with a long window [made with painted glass] on the left side, dark blue shudders, and dark blue trim around the windows. There was a porch with an intricate little set of steps and some Queen Anne style furniture.

"Wow," Charlene murmured next to her, taking in the sight of the house as well, "That sure is something."

Patty nodded her head in agreement, "It sure is." However as she was saying those three words her mind was elsewhere. This house reminded her of a different one she envisioned, one that was even more breath taking than this one. With gables and gazebos; longtime family friends, professors and students. One filled with a loving family of four, who cared a lot about education.

"Patty, are you alright?" Charlene questioned, not liking the way Patty seemed dazed.

The voice startled her, causing her to jump slightly. She turned to look at her companion, "Oh, I guess I was just day-dreaming' about something. Sorry."

"There's no reason to apologize," Charlene told her shaking her head. Patty smiled as her friend spoke those words, knowing once again that she did not hear them every day, or even every week.

The same silence as before engulfed the two of them as they continued to walk, breaking as Charlene began to speak once more, "So, what were you thinking about?" Charlene looked a bit sheepish, as if she was afraid to ask that question, as if she did not know exactly what she had wanted to say.

"I…," Patty's voice trailed off, and she decided that it was better to just tell Charlene the truth, "I was thinking of a house I believe to be beautiful…in Germany."

"Oh," Charlene replied, her voice growing a little sad and her blue eyes turning to rest gently on Patty, "Do you miss him?"

Patty was not surprised by the question, especially since Charlene had defended her so adamantly. "Yes, all the time," she softly spoke, her words carrying the sorrow that stayed with her always.

Charlene responded in a voice just as soft as Patty's, "It must be hard to get through the day."

Patty nodded her head, shocked by how fast she related, "It is, but what is worse is not knowing how he's doing, where he is…or if…or if he's even alive."

Charlene did not answer right away; instead, she removed her crystalline gaze from Patty. The silence embraced them once more, causing Patty to ponder once more. She thought of how different Charlene's reaction to this was from what her father's would have been, her mother's, her aunts', uncles and cousins, her 'friends', even her grandparents'. Charlene had shown sympathy towards the fact that she missed him.

Again, it was Charlene who broke the silence, "Patty…," she spoke tentatively, "How do you feel about an…internship? Or something like that?"

Patty did not know what to say. This was so very sudden. Very, _very_ sudden. "I'd…feel happy and giddy," she answered swiftly, asking the question her mind was revolving around with her eyes. Eyes that were round and hazel. Like a doe's, except not as large.

"Well, I was thinking we could do a little research out there, oh, and some traveling. Definitely some traveling," Charlene explained, catching the look in Patty's eyes. She spoke thoughtfully, a proud smile erupting _and_ staying on her porcelain face.

Patty was about to question what Charlene meant, for it was not very explanatory at all, but she decided against it. After all, she did not want to find out everything, she did not even know if her parents would agree.

"So, why are you wearing that?" Charlene asked, shattering the silence that had taken over their conversation. She knew what Patty liked and what Patty did not like, from regular correspondence while Patty was in Reformatory school, and once she had gotten out.

"My mother," was all she needed to say for Charlene to understand. They did not say anything else. They had been walking in a square, and here they were, back at the beginning. Sharing a quick glance Patty entered the house, followed closely by Charlene.

As they entered Patty's grandfather spotted them, saying a loud, "Why don't we all head to the table for dinner?"

There were mumbles of agreement and soon everyone was seated at the table, which was unusually large by the way. It had to be if it was fitting…all these people.

Patty didn't speak throughout the first three courses, and neither had Charlene, however her aunt Dorothy had done quite the bit of talking. At the moment she was telling everyone of the vacation the company was sending her and her family on. Sometimes Patty thought Aunt Dorothy spoke only of the vacations because it irritated her mother, Pearl.

"We're to rent a beach house near the cove, and I'm certain we'll be visiting the amusement parks around there," Aunt Dorothy blabbered on, "There's Crescent Park which I have heard has an absolutely exquisite carousel and a wonderful ballroom, Oh! And the shore dinners. My friend Emmaleigh says they are absolutely divine. Then there is also Vanity Fair, but they charge an entrance fee. There's two more in that city alone, and then there's this one called Rocky Point…."

Her Aunt just wouldn't be quiet, actually, it seemed as if she couldn't. In the next week or so, she and her family would be arriving in Rhode Island where they would carry out very little business but a lot of recreation. Swimming, Dancing, Dining, Going to Amusement Parks…

Her mother was complaining once again to her parents, asking why she never got to go on a trip like that, her Grandfather answering her this time. After he had spoken, the table settled into a relative silence, the only sound being of people eating.

Charlene, being the icebreaker, broke it with, "Mr. Bergen, Mrs. Bergen how do you feel about Patty participating in an internship?"

Her parents shared a look, and her father was the one who replied to Charlene, "And what would this internship require?"

Figures he would think about how it could cost him. Patty would have rolled her eyes, if she had wanted to pay for it later, that is. Hah. A pun.

"All she would need to take with her is some clothes," Charlene explained, "We'd be traveling. Researching for some articles, you know, the whole nine yards."

Before her parents had a chance to answer to Charlene her grandmother 'butted' in, "I think that would be fantastic!"

"It definitely would," her Grandfather agreed, backing up his wife. They seemed ecstatic, after all, they did know how much Patty liked writing, and they certainly knew how much Patty liked her words.

Her father went along with them, "When would this be, and for how long?"

Charlene seemed to think for a second, biting on her lower lip, "Well, as soon as school ends, I believe, and it would go until school starts back up."

Patty knew her parents would agree, they would be thrilled to get rid of her for an entire summer. And, seconds later her parents gave there consent and it was all settled. Dinner fell into a light conversation discussing things like weather, plans, and stuff in that nature.

When it was finished, Patty volunteered to do the dishes, and Charlene volunteered to help her. "So," Patty began, wiping a plate with the soapy green sponge, "What was that all about? What's this internship all about?"

Charlene hesitated, blushing but speaking with a strong voice even though it was lowered, "I lied Patty. There is no internship." She glanced towards the door, trying to see if anyone was listening in.

Patty was confused. Quite confused. "Then why-?" she began, interrupted by Charlene who was giggling like a schoolgirl.

Charlene, cheeks tinted a pale pink, smiled at Patty, answering in a voice full of certainty, "We _are_ going to be doing **research** and we are going to be **traveling**, but we're going to do these things to find out where Anton is."

**DISCLAIMER;;** I own none of these character, however my aunt owns a cat named Chipolte..or something like that.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

I apologize for misspelling Fraulein in the last chapter; I did not look the correct spelling up. "/

I would tell anyone who is reading this to look at Frau Yva's stories and Fraulein Moonlite's story, but this category is quite small and I'm sure if you're reading this you're reading theirs.

Crescent Park has one of the oldest carousels in the country, built by Charles Loof…more than a hundred years ago. All three amusement parks mentioned, and the two others I forgot the names to, are no longer around. They either went bankrupt, were destroyed by Hurricanes {Hurricane of 1938, Hurricane Carol, and some other one…}, or burnt down. Sadly, I have not seen an amusement park in RI, well, not since the Enchanted Forest…but that went bankrupt a few years ago.

I listened to mainly the Downtown Fiction, the Beatles, Garbage, the Used, McFly, the Runaways, and Busted while writing this.

I hope to update by Saturday,

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	7. Chapter 6

A month and fourteen days had passed by quickly and somewhat uneventfully. It was now June 21st, the day after the last day of school.

She had packed a suitcase, with enough outfits for a week and a half. She had also packed a dictionary she had yet to go through, the book with essays by Emerson, and Anton's ring. It amused her that all though the ring had been hers for quite some time she still found herself thinking of the artifact as his. As Anton's.

She felt the corners of her lips turn upwards, revealing her teeth. After that one day where Anton had made her feel like a plowgirl, unintentionally of course, she had set herself on a strict path of dental hygiene. And, the results had been truly satisfactory.

Patty found her thoughts of teeth and that summer slipping away as she once again let her mind drift to the upcoming summer months. Would they find enough information? Would they have to leave the country? Would she find out that he was de-She refused to even let herself think that.

He wasn't.

He just was not.

He could not be.

Patty pushed the whole topic away, focusing on what had happened in the past forty-four days. Her father had said that if she didn't behave properly she wouldn't be going, but she knew she would still be going anyway, her father would rather have her gone for a summer than punishing her by making her stay home (and there by punishing him with her being home). She knew how his mind worked, somewhat. Some of the things he did were still a complete and total mystery to her, and there was no indication that those mysteries would be revealed to her in this lifetime.

They had been back to her grandparents' house a few times, her mother throwing tantrums each time, especially when Uncle Ben and Aunt Dorothy had gotten back from their trip. Aunt Dorothy had been giving them a history lesson of Rhode Island, informing them all that the first Jewish place of worship in the whole country was-_**is**_-in Newport and was-_**is**_-known as the Touro Synagogue.

She was startled from her unfinished flashback by the sound of a car horn. She looked out of the parlor window, grinning at the pickup truck that belonged to Charlene Madlee. She hurriedly gathered her luggage, hauling the suitcase out of the house and next to the car. Charlene had gotten out of the car and was having a conversation with her father. Patty kept her eyes on the two of them, not wanting to seem impatient by trying to get her suitcase into the car by herself.

Charlene was finished speaking with Mr. Bergen in no time, briskly walking towards Patty, a warm smile lighting up her features. "Hey Patty," Charlene greeted, coming up on her right side and grabbing her suitcase, "Why don't you get into the car? I'll put this in the back."

Patty did as she was told, barely registering that there was someone else in the pick-up truck. "Hello," a new voice spoke, a low soprano coming from the silhouette of an adolescent girl. This person had straight shoulder-length strawberry blond (though it was nearly ash blond) hair and piercing jade eyes. She wore a pastel blue dress that tied in the middle by a blue silk sash. She had a black cover-up draped on her lap, and a pair of wrap-around black sandals on her feet. She was somewhat paler than people from around here, which caused Patty to guess that she was from up north. They didn't get as much sun up there, did they?

"Oh, uh, Hi," Patty responded to the greeting, her voice overflowing with uncertainty. Charlene had not mentioned someone else.

The girl was either oblivious to her uncertainty, or chose to ignore it, "I'm Giselle," she began, almost immediately adding, "My full name is Giselle Veronikah Lehmann." She barely stopped talking long enough to breath, "You can call me Gisa or Ellie, though, and please, please, never call me Jelly. My Vater was always calling me that and it was…embarrassing." When she had finished speaking there was a longing look, as if she were wishing that right then and there, this 'Vater' would come and call her 'Jelly'.

"I'm Patty," she responded, not going into some long-winded explanation on her name.

Giselle was about to respond but the opening of a door stopped her. Charlene entered the car, pushing locks of blond hair behind her ear. "I see the two of you have met," Charlene observed. Patty sent a small smile in her direction while Giselle practically beamed.

"Sorry 'bout not telling you Patty, it was quite last minute," Charlene explained, "And do not worry I haven't revealed anything you wouldn't want me to."

For a while, the car ride was silent and uninteresting. That is until Giselle shattered it with, "So, where are we headed first?"

Patty had not noticed it before but the girl spoke with an accent, as if English was not her first language. What could be her first language? And did that mean she had been born somewhere else?

"Well," Charlene began, "We're going to stop in a hotel along the way, and it will probably take a few days but I was thinking first to Rhode Island and then to New York so that we can do our research, or maybe New York and then Rhode Island. I'm not quite sure."

'Our Research'. Patty wondered what the girl's—Giselle's—research was about. Glancing upwards, she realized Giselle was wondering the same thing. Those piercing green eyes were looking straight into her hazel ones, trying to find the answer. Giselle ducked her head sheepishly, sending an apologetic smile in her direction.

"Is English your first language?" Patty tentatively asked.

"Nein, Nein. My first language is German," Giselle answered, not knowing what type of reaction to expect. After all, many who had heard were not pleasant afterwards.

Patty immediately lost any expression that had been or could have been on her face, shock washing over her face as high tide overtaking a beach. "Were you born there?" she inquired her voice soft and whispery.

Giselle hesitated, glancing towards Charlene who was conspicuously focused on her driving. "Ja," she nodded, "I was born in Rosdorf."

"Oh," Patty replied. Although she had expected that Giselle was born there she couldn't keep surprise from crashing into her. It did not stay for long though, it was quickly replaced by joy, even giddiness. "What part of Germany did you live in?" she asked, not able to keep the anticipation and excitement from her voice.

"Rosdorf is in Lower Saxony," she explained, bringing her hand to her face to readjust her bangs, "It was really close to a university town….Gottingen."

**DISCLAIMER;; **I own a birdhouse gourd that needs to be painted but I am not, and will never be Bette Greene.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

Ahhhhhk.

So, so sorry.

It is updated before a Saturday, just not the one I had in mind. I was intending to finish this since I finished the last chapter, but over the past week and days, I ran into many obstacles.

This chapter marks the entry of my first 'original character' (OC), who is, as mentioned in the writing itself, is from Germany.

I apologize if I have gotten anything incorrect. The town website for Rosdorf is in German and I cannot read German all that well, though I do have a basic understanding (I've almost memorized and understood each letter in the alphabet and know quite a few words). I couldn't find a history of Rosdorf, and on the German sites I have no idea which section in History, and translators don' really cut it for me.

Oh, well, hope you all enjoy.

I will update when I can.

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	8. Chapter 7

They had not spoken much after that, a silence remaining in the air, each consumed with their own thoughts.

Currently both girls were at different ends of a motel bed, having said that they did not mind and that Charlene should 'have a bad to herself'. Patty struggled to find sleep but she just could not, a feeling of curiosity was gnawing at the back of her mind. She wanted to know why Giselle was there.

She turned over, now facing Giselle's back instead of the wall, "Giselle…?" she called out in a tentative whisper.

"Ja?" the blond answered, twisting her neck so that she could see Patty's face.

Patty hesitated, biting her bottom lip, "Why…Why are you…." She didn't finish, she couldn't. The look of sorrow on the girl's face swept her words away.

The girl didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even seem to blink for a long period of time. "I don't remember a Germany before Hitler, I was a year old when he came into power. However, my sisters and brothers, my Mutter and my Vater, have all told me that it was a happy place, that 'sure there was poverty and such things but people where still jolly despite that'," she began, averting her gaze from Patty to the ceiling.

"Things weren't that bad at first," she continued, "but they got worse and worse as time went on. In 1939 boys and girls between certain ages had to join the Hitler Youth or League of German Girls. By the time all boys sixteen and older were sent out to fight we were all doing poorly. There was nothing to eat, and we were being bombed constantly. I don't know how, or why but I ended up separated from my family when I ventured outside, I was found by an American soldier and taken to their base, I tried to tell them that I was lost and my family was in Rosdorf. They didn't believe me, they thought I was just caught up in grief and so, I was sent to America. I tried to tell them yet again, but they said that they wouldn't send me back without proof. Since I know I'm not their top concern, Why would I be? I'm just another German, another 'Kraut', I told Charlene, who I had met upon first coming here, and she said she'd help."

The girl looked exhausted from saying it all. She had her green eyes closed, and a sense of weariness surrounding her.

Patty didn't know what to say, but in experience with Anton, reminding people of their family seemed to work wonders, "What were their names? Your family's, I mean."

Giselle seemed to brighten, "My mutter's is Ava, and my Vater's is Henrik. My eldest sister's is Keilei, while my eldest brother's is Hans. Then my second eldest brother is Dieter, and the sister's closest to me in age are Aloisa and Liesel, and they're twins. My Oma's name is Ingrid and my Opa is Friedemann, and then my other Oma is Sieghild and my other Opa is Kunibert."—Once you got her on the names of her family members there was no end to her talking, was there?—"My Dad's brother is Jorge and his wife is Leni, while they're two children are Lilli and Markus. Then my dad also has a sister and her name's Svenja and her husband is Rolf, and they have one son, Jakob. I'm closest to him in age. And then my mother has one brother and his name is Erikson"— Erikson?—"and his wife is Deborah, though she's not German."—Deborah? Not German?—"Then they have one son and one daughter, Anton and Hannah." Anton? Anton?

Giselle paused noticing the look on Patty's face, "Uhmm, Patty, are you alright?"

Patty didn't hear she was to busy thinking about this Anton. Everything she had said described him, everything. All the family members. Well, not the extended ones, but the intermediate ones matched up.

"It's just that…the name Anton is so familiar…and Erikson, Deborah, and Hannah sound familiar as well," Patty explained, after a few moments of silence.

Giselle looked deep in thought, saying more about them, though a look of sadness overtook her features, "Well, Erikson took after his father Friedemann and worked at the University, and some years Deborah would as well. Anton was close to Hans and Markus in age and the three of them were…drafted, you could say…into the army, though Hans died and Markus was severely injured. Before I had left Germany we had heard nothing from him in over a year. Hannah just ignored everything about the war, a good friend of hers died because he objected to it, and focused on music. She's a great violinist, though she also plays the flute and the organ."

Everything matched. Everything. This was so creepy.

"That's just like I had heard it was," Patty said in a small whisper. Well, she hadn't heard all that. Anton never mentioned the death of anyone. He didn't like death. After all, who did like death?

"That's…odd," Giselle commented, looking straight into Patty's eyes as if they would give her the answer.

"I…I met Anton," Patty whispered, she was about to say more but she was cut off by a yawn.

"Nein. Don't try to speak, get some sleep, you can tell me how you know my cousin some other time," she told Patty firmly, but with that gentle tone a mother would use with her child. Giselle must have started to see her in that way, as a family member. She could tell how just the mention of her cousin cheered her up, how it gave a spark of hope to her eyes. "Gute Nacht," Giselle murmured, turning her neck so that her head was back to looking at the nightstand.

Patty turned towards the off-white wall, trying to process this information, and trying to fall asleep. She could not now for a different reason. What had happened to all those others in Giselle's family? What of them?

She would have out right asked but that would have been rude, very rude. She did not want to tread where she did not belong. Other people's business was other people's business…but, it made her fell closer to Anton.

**DISCLAIMER;;** Not Bette, not Greene. Never will be. End of.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

Please, Please keep in mind that this is not Entirely historically accurate. I didn't feel like doing research on how a child from Germany would get to America without her family during world war two, and so I spun a story from my imagination. So, no, I doubt something like that really happened.

This chapter is short, I know. But it was fun to write because, to me, it is fun looking up names. All of the names above, besides Keilei, are either Germanic or German variants of other names.

I like making people related, it is just joyous in a sense of way. Like 'Oh, you two are sisters? I would have never guessed'.

Hmm, I don't know what I should do with the rest of her family. Who should be dead, and who should be alive. Let me know what you think.

And, since I totally stole the female version of his name, this chapter will be dedicated to Frau Yva's husband.

In a totally unrelated topic, I have a sunburn, and resembled a lobster. It only hurts on my shoulders, though. Bad sunblock for lying to me and making me think I only needed to put it on once. ):

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	9. Chapter 8

After spending some time awake mulling over what she had learned sleep had finally overcome her, but now, she was awake. She shifted her face slightly, blinking. Who know the sun would be so powerful behind the blinds? She sure hadn't.

She rose slowly, bringing a hand up to rub one of her eyes. She yawned, glancing around, trying to take in everything that was happening. Charlene, apparently, wasn't in the room at the time, but Giselle was currently sitting at the foot of the bed, running through her pale flaxen hair with a brush. She wore a mint coloured dress, that tied around the waist with a dark green sash. Her feet were uncovered, presumably because she had yet to need to put on shoes.

Giselle glanced in her direction, having felt her shift, "_Guten Morgen_."

"Good Morning…?" Patty replied, casting a questioning glance at her, wondering if she had responded correctly. She slid out from under the blanket, draping her legs off the side of the bed.

"Ja," Giselle answered, barely waiting before she jumped into another topic, "Charlene's out getting breakfast, she said she'll be back shortly, though I doubt it. From the looks of it this town doesn't rise until noon."

Patty was confused, 'from the looks of it this down doesn't rise until noon'? Where were they again? "The looks of what?" she asked, feeling a little…left out. Like she was missing something.

"When I went to go change in the bathroom, I glanced out the window and there wasn't a person in sight," Giselle explained, nagging the townspeople in the next breath, "Back in Rosdorf we were usually up before the sun, and most definitely up before seven-thirty. They should really do the same. Too much sleep isn't good."

"Where'd you hear that?" Patty inquired, feeling just the tiniest bit nosy. All she had down this morning was ask questions. Questions about little topics. Small talk questions.

Giselle laughed, the sound like wind-chimes, "I read it in a magazine Uncle Erik gave to me for my tenth birthday."

And there it went again. Every conversation Patty had in the past few days always shifted back to the same thing. The same person. "Sounds educational," Patty commented, her tone slightly softer than before, and her words faltering just the smallest bit. She was sure the girl would not notice. No one ever noticed.

"Uncle Erik's all about education, he'd always give me lessons, even though what he sometimes talked about contradicted Fraulein Hüß," Giselle continued, seemingly absorbed in what she was saying. It was a total act though, the question definitely was not expected, and neither was the burning curiosity in the girl's eyes, "How _do_ you know Anton?"

Patty was surprised, to say the least. She had not expected that question, not right now anyway. "Well," Patty began, her hesitation as obvious as it could be without being written upon her face. Giselle would not hold anything against her. Giselle was not only a German, but she was related to Anton. Her reaction could not be like Edna Louise's.

"In Jenkensville, Arkansas they decided to, well, near Jenkensville, not in it," Patty continued, oblivious to the fact she was rambling at the moment, "They had a camp, they still have a camp, for German POWs, Prisoners of War, and they were forced, I guess you could say, to pick cotton for Mr. Jackson."

The gentle, curious look on Giselle's face clearly invited her to continue, and so, with a sudden burst of energy and straight-forwardness, she picked up where she had left off, "Anton was there, he was a prisoner. I first met him when he and the some of the other POWs were brought in to buy hats, he walked away from the others to buy some writing supplies. The person who ran that department was busy so I decided I'd help him, and then I just asked how he knew English and it got a conversation started. By the end of it we were friends."

Patty paused to breath, this story was long, and she had rambled some parts so now the story was longer than it was. As if she believed Patty needed some encouragement, Giselle nodded her head in affirmation that she had heard and understood all Patty had said so far. And, gosh darnit, it was encouraging, causing Patty to speak once more, "Later on, I saw him running to catch a train, and, I didn't want him getting hurt, so I ran to him and took his hand, so that he couldn't jump. I brought him back to my family's garage, which had a few rooms above it that no one ever went in, so I had him there." Right about now was when others would be completely outraged; they would accuse her of '_helping a nazi_' and '_her being a nazi_'. Giselle, as she had predicted, did not look outraged, but seemed to somehow look at her differently. "But, he believed things were too hard for me, too dangerous for me and so he left. The FBI came and questioned me, saying they were in pursuit of him. They never told me what happened after that," Patty finished, hanging her head in defeat at the last sentence.

It wasn't exactly the whole story but, it was pretty close. And, she had even added in about the inquisition between her and the FBI, and told of how the FBI never told her what had happened to him.

Giselle had moved from her position at the foot of the bed, taking the few necessary strides to reach Patty. She clasped one of Patty's hands in hers, "You are very brave, Patty." The words were foreign to her ears, and the expression upon Giselle's face was foreign to her eyes. Giselle was gazing down at her with a mixture of gratitude and joy in her eyes, her lips were turned upward at the corners, and her features were generally relaxed.

Patty shook her head, disagreeing with the compliment like she always seemed to do with compliments, "No, I'm not." In her mind, she felt she did not deserve compliments. The constant nagging of others could really affect your subconscious mind.

"_Was_? You must definitely are," Giselle disagreed, her voice sounding somewhat angry, "You _risked your life_ for my cousin, a prisoner of war, your country's enemy, and you say that you are not brave? If the civilians of my country had an ounce of your courage, your bravery thirteen or so years ago this world would be a much different place."

Oh, how was this girl so similar to her cousin? They did not look the same, but they acted the same…sort of, and somehow said things that sounded awfully similar. Patty had no idea what type of response was suitable to those words and so she just averted her gaze to the hand Giselle had previously been holding, before her miniature rant.

The door opened, revealing the destroyer of awkward moments, Charlene. She was dressed in a pale yellow sundress, complete with a matching hat and white sandals. Her hair was put back in a bun, and she carried a plate of toast, some cups, and a bottle of orange juice. Giselle hurried over to her, taking the glasses because they seemed the most troubling to the reporter.

"Sorry for the wait," Charlene apologized, "It took me some time to locate the juice, and a suitable breakfast food. Though the woman who runs the counter is really nice, she let me use her toaster, and is letting us use the plate and cups."

Giselle nodded in agreement, "That is quite nice of her."

"Well, probably won't be having lunch 'cos I want to get all this driving done as soon as possible, so, eat up, girls!" Charlene said, setting the plate and juice down on the nightstand.

Oh, how great.

More sitting in a car in a possibly awkward silence.

Oh, how she looked forward to it.

**DISCLAIMER;;** 'So I own not a notion, I escape an ape content, I don't own emotion- I rent!' I neither own (nor rent) this idea and all characters stated otherwise, such as Giselle and the nice woman…and well most of Giselle's family. Not Anton, Hannah, Erikson, or Deborah though. I don't own 'RENT' either. Though I have the DVD.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;**

It has been sooooo long.

I feel bad.

I ignored this story, even though I had a million ideas.

And, I wasn't even doing anything else productive.

Unless, you count hanging around and playing sports with friends productive.

And, the Warped Tour.

And, watching the German National Men's Soccer team play.

Which, brings me to some shocking news.

According to Alex-chan, my friend Nee-chan's sister, I am married to Paul the Octopus.

I'm working on some other projects at the moment, but I hope to update this soon.

And, with a longer chapter.

My current chapters seem to be getting shorter and shorter.

And, now a short explanation for the Uncle Erik and the bravery part. I imagine she'd call him Uncle Erik, and I know many topics that were suitable in the past were no longer found as suitable. And for the bravery part, Hitler promised so much to the people, and those who didn't agree with Nazi philosophy mostly kept their opinions to themselves. Though, It was very understandable that they did.

Learning German is very slowgoing, for Rosetta Stone explains nothing to me. Absolutely nothing, but my vocabulary is increasing, and I am somewhat understanding grammar.

Translations (as if you couldn't guess them);;

Guten Morgen- Good Morning

Ja- Yes

Fraulein- Miss

Was- What

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


	10. Chapter 9

"And where are we heading now?" Patty asked a somewhat bored edge to her voice. However, that was normal under the current circumstances. After all, who in their right mind could stand a few days of driving? It was enough to drive one of those super serious never-smiling people off the edge and into a fall of confusion, ending in the crash of madness.

Charlene rolled her eyes, "It's a secret."

"If it's such a secret then why, do tell, are there signs saying where we are headed and where we currently are?" Giselle questioned a small sparkle in her eyes as she teased the older blonde.

"Children these days," Charlene muttered, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

Giselle got a somewhat scowling look on her face, "I'm not a child. I'm nearly fourteen."

"Oh, please, you're barely thirteen," Charlene responded, her lips falling into a smirk.

Patty watched the whole mini-conversation in amusement, hoping the summer never ended. It would be hard for many to believe, but Patty was beginning to think this was the best summer she had ever had.

So far, she had only spent her time having conversations and traveling from motel to motel, but she had enjoyed every minute of it. There were no people mad at her (for no good reason), there were no people trying to change her, and there were no people…that did not understand her.

She gave a small chuckle to her thoughts, earning a quizzical look from Giselle who had heard it.

"What is so funny, Patty?" Giselle asked, arching a pale eyebrow. Her tone held no anger, no annoyance, just that natural curiosity that was common with her.

Patty gave her a small smile, "Just thinking about what my summer would have been like back home."

"Oh? And what would it be like back home?" Giselle inquired, a smile gracing her own features. On this day, she had her hair down, framing her face in platinum. Her dress was a simple blue sundress, paler than cerulean but darker than cyan.

"Boring," Patty answered without hesitation. She had always found herself with nothing to do over the summer (besides read that is), well, except for last summer, but last summer was not {definitely not) her average summer.

Giselle nodded slowly in understanding, "Your town didn't seem all that large, and well, cities over here seem to have so much more than towns."

Patty began moving her own head up in down in agreement, building up the nerve to ask, "What was your summers like?"

Giselle sat silently for a few moments, eyes focused on the hands in her lap, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed just the slightest bit. Patty wondered if she had upset her, after all, it was not the type of topic you should bring up. Patty was about to apologize when she heard Giselle's voice cut through the silence.

"The summers before I had been old enough to go to school were spent with mainly my family, although, some of my parents' friends would visit," Giselle began, seeming to searching her memories to provide Patty with an adequate answer. She continued, a small smile appearing on her face, "After school began I still spent part of it with my family, but, I also filled my time with asking to visit my friends, or asking for them to come visit.

Then came the summer of '39, which was spent rather the same way as previous summers, seeing as I wasn't old enough to be a part of the 'League of German Girls'."

Giselle paused, only to begin speaking once more before Patty had a chance to comment, "When I was old enough, I took part in the League of German Girls as was required. Though as the months wore on there was less and less we could do, for supplies were getting lesser and lesser." She sighed a small sigh, not too loud or too long, "And that is where my summers end, unless, of course, you count this one. Which has been filled with quite the bit of travel."

"Was your town big?" Patty questioned, getting into one of her 'inquisitive states'.

Giselle laughed, "Big? Definitely not. And it wasn't even truly a town. It was more of a village, where everyone knew each other." She smiled fondly at the thought of her hometown, eyes conveying that she thought about her home all the time.

Giselle had said Patty's town was what made her summers boring, but it seemed Giselle's town was just as small. Then again, Patty never had the company Giselle did.

"Was there much to do?" Patty inquired, her voice a little softer than before, and the edge of her curiosity dimmed.

Giselle nodded, a large smile taking over her face, "Well, Gottingen was always close by, so plenty of people and places to visit. Though, we each had a garden in Rosdorf, and we'd always be weeding and watering. Then there was a lot of space so, if you wanted to play some type of game it was quite easy."

Patty nodded, feeling a little like she did when she was back home. However, her town did not have all those things. Well, there were gardens and space, and there was Wynne City, but she wasn't needed to help in the Garden, the space wasn't good without others (and they went to that camp for the summer, though they probably wouldn't want to be outside where they could get dirty or something, and it was /her/ asking.), and no one she knew was gonna drive her to Wynne City.

"What did your parents do, as in an occupation?" Patty continued onward with her questions, hoping to get her mind off town comparisons.

Giselle thought for a minute, as if shifting through her mind to remember what exactly her parents did for a job, "My Vater was a mechanic, and if he hadn't been recruited…or if things aren't as bad as they say he's still a mechanic. Then, my Mutter was a secretary for Herr Doktor Ehrlichmann, who was Head of the Medical Department at the University of Gottingen. He was later recruited as a doctor for the Wermacht."

By the time Giselle had finished she had a few stray tears in her eyes. Of course, it had been at least a little insensitive to ask that. With all the things that could have gone wrong from the time Giselle had left to this current moment, with all the things that had already gone wrong.

"My family was very lucky," Giselle commented after a pause, her lips upturned the slightest bit at the corners, "We were a large family, at least, larger than most. Yet, we had more than most families."

The comment confused Patty, she didn't know much about life in other countries. She didn't know all that much about economies. Though, she had heard of the depression. Everyone had. And they had gone through it, though, Patty herself had never experienced it. If it had affected America, could it have affected other countries as well?

It fell into a relative silence after that, no one speaking. No one making a sound besides the occasional shuffle of feet or clothing. At any other time, with any other people Patty would have found this silence awkward. Another thing she had done wrong. But now, right here, it was just silence. People mulling over their own thoughts, minding their own business.

And so, Patty decided to cease her pondering of the types of silence, and brought back conversations from the past few days. Just yesterday she and Giselle had exchanged answers to simple, nonsense questions.

Favorite color. Giselle's was opal blue, while Patty's was a mixture between leaf green and sky gray.

Favorite place they had been. Giselle's was 'Köln', which she had later explained to Patty was the name for Cologne in _Deutsch_, in German. Patty's was Memphis, for visits there meant seeing her grandparents, which always brightened her week.

Favorite food. Patty preferred knishes and jelly, while Giselle had said she liked many types of _wurst_, fancied having sauerbraten and had a taste for strudel.

Favorite genre. Patty said she was interested in realistic fiction and mysteries, while Giselle admitted to loving romance and angst.

Favorite day of the week. Patty was a Saturday person, while Giselle was a Monday person.

Favorite instrument. For Patty it was the piano, and Giselle 'simply adored the viola'.

There had been many more things, well 'favorites', they had told each other, but it was impossible, utterly impossible, to recount them all at the same time. The day before they had given out basic information to each other.

Birthdates. Giselle was born on March Fifteenth, and Patty had been born on June 2nd. Giselle had made all three people in the car laugh by quoting a Shakespeare play, with "Et tu Brute?", making the 'ides of march' reference.

Family member names. However, it would take much to long to name all of them, even if she was thinking this to herself, and not saying it aloud.

Hometowns. Which were Jenkinsville and Rosdorf, respectively.

And, at a time when they were both feeling rather optimistic, their dreams.

Dream Occupations. Patty stuck with journalism, and Giselle had said she would like to be a teacher one day. However, she had yet to narrow down the subjects, smiling sheepishly as she said she 'enjoyed most of them'.

They had also discussed dream families, dream weddings, dream adventures, dream inventions. Though, it got a little embarrassing for Patty at the wedding part, due to the 'spouse' part of weddings. After all, how do you admit to someone that you have a crush on her cousin, who happens to be an adult while you are a ch-_teenager_?

They had shared jokes, and silly stories. They swapped names and personalities, trying to act as each other. Giselle had told Patty all these fairy tales, which she accredited some to be from the Brothers Grimm, some to be from her family, and some to be from her own imagination. At the end of that day, Patty could not help but feel a little homesick. Just the thought of fairy tales reminded Patty of Sharon. She smiled a bit at the thought of her sister, who had always seemed to be a radiant ball of sunshine.

They stayed far away from anything to serious though, except in a few times like now. This silence had occurred before, and Patty could tell it would occur again and again, 'cos there was always something that really made you /think/.

The most serious they had gotten without the silence was Giselle trying to teach Patty basic German phrases. It had ended with them both laughing, as Patty struggled to repeat the simple phrases. So, Giselle had decided to give her a piece of paper with German words that were close in pronounciation and spelling to their English translations. _Engel_. _Grune_. _Blau_. _Hallo_. _Auto_. _Madchen. Ja_. _Vater_. _Wasser_. _Mutter_. _Appel_. _Wunderbar_._ Bruder_._ Mein_. _Hunde_. _Katze_.

Patty felt her lips move upwards more and more as she repeated the words in her head, translating them to English. _Angel_. _Green_. _Blue_. _Hello_. _Automobile_. _Girl_. _Yes_. _Father_. _Water_. _Mother_. _Apple_. _Wonderful_. _Brother_. _My_. _Dog_. _Cat_.

She was drawn from her thoughts as Giselle nudged her arm softly with her elbow. Patty gazed out the window, taking in the darkening sky and the growing number of buildings. Either they had reached their destination, or they were stopping for the night. Either way, Patty had to admit Charlene had great timing.

She and Giselle exchanged a glance, silently conveying the question between each other. As the sky began to darken more and more, and the time went on, the speed of Charlene's driving became slower, and soon they were parked on the side of the street, next to a yellow house.

"We're here!" Charlene exclaimed happily, a smile taking over the slight fatigue and boredom her features had previously shown.

Giselle seemed to fight the urge to roll her eyes, "And where is 'here'?"

Charlene laughed, that teasing glint entering her eyes, "Oh, I thought you were looking at the road signs to know where we were?" With the final word, she sprung out the car door, waiting for the two girls to do the same.

They followed suit, Gisele grumbling something about 'Charlene' and cheekiness' as they did so. When they were all grouped together, Charlene lead the way to the door knocking louder than one usually would.

Giselle gave Patty a questioning look that spoke the words, "Is this our destination?" through a raised eyebrow and a small pursing of her lips.

At once, the door flung open, a voice calling out a greeting with a jolly tone, a pair of arms pulling Charlene into an embrace, "Lena! It has been so long, well, one year, but still that is long. Funny how some of the shortest of times feel like the longest, eh? How have you been? Is Memphis treating you well? How is your career going? Di- Oh, why, hello, hello! These must be the two companions you mentioned in your latest letter!"-The arms let go of Charlene and in turn embraced the two girls at the same time-"I'm Nicole!"

Patty barely comprehended anything the women said. She talked faster than a bird chirped. Patty could see her own confusion reflected on Giselle's face as they were both pulled into a hug. _Who_ was this woman?

As the embrace ended and they were released, both girls found themselves taking a step back, not enjoying how crowded it had become. The woman, Nicole, had short, bobbed, dark brown hair and caramel brown eyes. Her eyebrows were thin and arched, and her eyeliner was done precisely in a way that made her eyes appear longer. She wore a pale beige blouse, and a long sage green skirt.

Patty tried to give her a smile, but her smile came out unsure. She held out her hand for the woman to shake, assuming it was the appropriate greeting, "I'm Patty."

She glanced towards her right; curious to see how Giselle would introduce herself. The girl in question had crossed her legs and curtsied, murmuring a few quick, soft words, "_Küss die Hand._"

Patty watched on in quiet observation watching as the ghost of a smile crossed the somewhat confused woman's face. It was obvious it was not expected, but the gesture was not thought of as rude (how could it be?), and albeit not as what many others would take it as.

Nicole winked at Charlene, "I can only begin to guess what you wanted to talk about." She gave them another warm-hearted smile, opening her door wider, and motioning with her left arm for them to come in, and, of course adding in a few words, "Well, come in, come in! It's obvious we have a lot of talking to do."

**DISCLAIMER;;** I in no way own Summer of my German Soldier, though I do own a bass guitar. c:

**AUTHOR'S NOTE;;** Err, sorry it took so long, but I was trying to make it longer and for the longest time I had writer's block. Not to mention various trips to the beach. And my newfound obsession with Hetalia. However, I guess I was quite untruthful when I said It would be updated soon. And, whether or not you chose to believe this, which you probably should not believe, but, I hope to at least add another chapter to this by September 8th (when school starts for me), though I'm gonna try for two.

As you might've guessed, Nicole is another OC. A very chatty one at that. Don't expect much dialogue from anyone else when she's around. She tends to monopolize conversations. Unknowingly, of course.

As for the list, well it is not exactly a list, but it's close enough, I have know idea if all my translations are correct, 'cos I am much to lazy to look it up. All the words I learned from reading various fanfictions, and Rosetta Stone. I know that 'Appel' is also spelt 'Apfel' in some parts of Germany. c:

As for her parents jobs, I just thought a mechanic would suit her father, and that since her mother was once a Reiker she'd have a job concerning the University. And, Herr Doktor Ehrlichmann is an OC, and I have no idea if they have a Head of Medicine at the University (though I could have looked on their website), I'm just assuming that.

….Am I being stereotypical about Giselle's favorite foods? I remember reading in my traveling book about the different common foods, and what's up there is what I can remember. Though, I also remember Black Forest Cake and Bavarian Cream Desert.

I know "_Kiss the Hand_" was something children said to adults upon meeting them in Austria at the time, well, actually, before. I got this tidbit of information from '_Play to the Angel_' by Maurine Dahlberg. And, the reason Giselle used it will be explained in the next chapter.

Also, to give a hint towards the ending, not that I think you'll really be able to guess from it, but the near-ending shall include dialogue about Gänseliesel. c:

_Auf wiedersehen~!_

Please Review,

**&&****TABBY/PLUTO**


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